All Fools' Day

Now is the day when arrant fools Play outworn tricks on sober men! But, for the thoughtful soul that schools His mind to conning o'er again Past folly, that he may see clear Faults of commission and neglect, This is the day in all the year For help-inducing retrospect! Myself, when young and confident, Walked ever proudly on my way; With eyes set onward as I went I gave small heed to yesterday. But, growing old, the once bright star Waned to a faint and sickly flame; So faint I'd turn and gaze afar For help along the way I came. A chastening exercise for me This yearly task of harking back; For what a piteous fool I see Comes tumbling up that thorny track! I would cast ashes on my head Did consolation not recall That in the end, when all is said, Both young and old, well - aren't we all?